


One Minute to Midnight

by ipsilateral



Series: the rest is noise [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aged Up, Gen, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-21 05:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19996885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ipsilateral/pseuds/ipsilateral
Summary: Right now, he just wants to sit and soak up every detail of being in this place, at this time; a careful memory he'll be able to shake into focus whenever he needs to, like a snowglobe.-- the last night before college.





	One Minute to Midnight

They're supposed to head out at 8:00am tomorrow, but it's already midnight and Lucas and Dustin are still sprawled around Mike's room, showing no signs of leaving. The mostly empty bottle of rum is just behind the bedskirt in case Mrs. Wheeler happens to come in unannounced. It's not a very good hiding place. Will can see the crystalline reflection of glass from where he's sitting at Mike's desk, but he's a little drunk and doesn't really care. 

"They have a good engineering program. I can do that, maybe," Mike says. His face is starting to get red from hanging off the foot of the bed. 

"You know engineering is mostly math, right?" Dustin asks. "The kind of math with letters and symbols and arrows and shit."

"Well, good thing I'm awesome at math, then."

"You were awesome at like, algebra," Dustin corrects. "Did you even manage a C- in calculus this year?" 

"I managed a B-, thank you _very_ much," Mike scoffs, kicking out blindly and managing to jostle Dustin.

"Yeah, because you copied half the homework from me," Dustin shoots back, grabbing the pillow and hitting Mike with it. 

"And the other half from me," Lucas chimes in from where he's lying by the bookshelf. He flips over and army crawls across the room until he can swipe at the rum. It takes some effort to take a swig while on his stomach, but he manages.

"Jesus, you look like a beached whale," Dustin observes. "Anyway, Mike, choose whatever major floats your boat. It doesn't have to dictate what kind of job you'll get. Also, you can change it whenever you want. Duh."

"Yeah, duh," Lucas agrees. "Hell, Will's the only one who actually knows what he wants to do." He flaps a hand in Will's direction. 

They all look over at him and Will looks back with heavy eyes. He doesn't talk much when he's drunk in the first place, and tonight even more so. Right now, he just wants to sit and soak up every detail of being in this place, at this time; a careful memory he'll be able to shake into focus whenever he needs to, like a snowglobe.

"He's wasted," Dustin sighs, which turns into a yelp when Will takes a pen off Mike's desk and throws it at him. 

"You're wasted," Will counters weakly. 

"It speaks!" Mike crows, at the same time Lucas corrects, "We're _all_ wasted," and then Mike hisses, "Shut up, my mom," a little nonsensically, but they still and listen for any sign of someone outside the door anyway. 

The ping-pong of conversation makes Will feel overwhelmingly happy and bereft all at once. He wonders if any of the others can relate. Sometimes he's the only one to notice things like that. 

"What do you guys think we'll be like in college?" he asks. 

"Super mature, manly men, obviously." Dustin flexes his arms to demonstrate, but Mike appears to be taking the question seriously.

"Lucas, captain of the recreational ultimate frisbee team. Probably gonna date a few girls semi-seriously before ending up marrying Max when we're like, twenty," Mike rattles off. Lucas lets out a, "Ha!," against the carpet. He and Max had broken up a month ago for the second 'final time' and the eighth time overall. 

Mike continues: "Dustin, becomes an RA for a couple years. Triple-majors in god knows what obscure topics will be interesting to him at the time. Semiotics, or some shit."

"Dates an older chemistry TA," Will jumps in. "Gets his own radio show at two in the morning that talks about conspiracy theories."

Dustin perks up. "I like this. I like it _a lot_. Let's concentrate on thinking it into reality."

"Honestly, you're probably just gonna be one of those guys who walks around campus with a ferret on his shoulder," says Lucas.

Dustin blinks. "So what if I do?"

"What do you mean, so what if you do?"

"I mean, what's wrong with ferrets?"

“What's wrong with ferrets?" Mike repeats, finally sitting up. His face looks like a raspberry. "I’m pretty sure they have rabies, _that’s_ what’s wrong with them. Jesus," he says, sounding scandalized. 

For some reason, it’s the funniest thing ever. Everyone laughs, and soon the initial reason for laughter is forgotten as they keep laughing in some strange, drunken, positive-feedback loop. Dustin is making his raspy, honking screeching noises. Mike rolls off the bed at some point and hits his head on the windowsill in the process, setting them off all over again.

Will laughs until he’s wiping away tears. He slides down from his chair and reaches out to Lucas, who's closest, and punches him in the shoulder just because. It’s funny -- he moved away once already, but now, here, as Lucas clutches at his leg while shaking from laughter; as he listens to Dustin gasping for air and looks at Mike's stupid red face, he feels like he’s missing them all over again.


End file.
